


100 Kinks RaM Edition

by AnathemaAuthoress



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bottom Rick, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Info on each short, Kinks, M/M, Not All Tags Apply to All Chapters, Scat, challenge, dirty grandpa, hold your breath Morty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 17:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20970272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnathemaAuthoress/pseuds/AnathemaAuthoress
Summary: A series of one-shots revolving around different kinks. Each kink is listed per chapter so you can skip around.Rick and Morty get freaky in a series of strange, kinky, and sometimes filthy ways.





	100 Kinks RaM Edition

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Kinks: (Everything on the box...so far) Scat, mild asphyxiation, dirty talk, ambiguously aged Morty.   
Mandatory disclaimer that scat is not a kink of mine. This fic was born of a challenge to myself to try to turn a squick into something hot and maybe fill a void in fandom all at once. Enjoy!

It was pitch black when Morty’s door creaked open and the boy wasn’t really awake as company staggered in. As such, he didn’t protest as the weight of another person filled his bed. He didn’t startle at first either, simply rested in the stagnant night, snoring dreamlessly.

It wasn’t until that weight was clamoring on top of him that he snapped awake in alarm. “Wh-what?! What is it? Rick?” His eyes went wide then strained to see through the veil of darkness. His pupils didn’t have much time to adjust, but the light rushing in from the hall through the crack left by the door was enough to cast an eerie halo around Rick’s head. It was enough to know at once that there–probably–wasn’t much to be alarmed about.

“Hu-hush, Morty,” came the slurred reply. The weight shifted on Morty’s legs as the older man fidgeted over him and tried to find a comfortable place to settle his boney ass.

The sound was enough to soothe Morty’s frazzled nerves. He realized he’d arched up off his pillows and onto his elbows, and at the sound he eased back down and let his shoulders somewhat relax against the mattress. He was still on alert, but he figured if Rick was going to yank him out of bed at this stage that he’d have at least a moment’s notice to prepare.

“What are you doing in here, Rick?” Morty’s words were punctuated with a yawn as he squinted his eyes and tried to better make out his grandfather’s silhouette in the darkness.

“Shh. Shush-shhh, Morty.” Rick kept his voice low but the chuckle at the end of his statement gave away his attempts at conspiring. He shifted again, this time haphazardly pawing at the quilt separating him from Morty. Once he’d thrashed it out of the way, Morty felt the older man crawl into his lap and grope around until spindly fingers were pressing down on Morty’s flaccid prick through his boxers.

Morty drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and his hands flew up reflexively to grip Rick’s hips. It was only then that he realized his grandfather was ass naked. It was going to be one of  _ those  _ nights. Morty sighed in feigned suffering, but the reality of the situation beckoned him to rise beneath Rick’s touch.

Over the last few months, Rick had been remarkably sober the majority of the time. Morty didn’t know if it was a result of less stress, or greater need to concentrate, or something else entirely. Frankly, he didn’t care. All it meant was that Rick was more coherent in his fury most of the time, and when he did get drunk he was really, truly  _ drunk _ .

They’d been fooling around for a while, but Rick only liked it in the ass when he was plastered. Crawling into Morty’s bed and cooing for–or outright demanding–attention was his new staple.

As a result, Morty naturally fell into step when Rick started to stroke his rigid length through the soft cotton boxers that kept them apart. 

Rick’s hand moved lazily up and down at varying paces depending on the old man’s awareness from moment to moment. He gave the cock a few firm squeezes and Morty twitched under the contact. A heat started to surmount from the friction. His boxers gathered up the particles like tiny flames and left trails of heat as Rick’s wrist moved in uneven patterns up and down. 

When the heat built up so hot that tension started to feel strikingly close to discomfort, Morty swatted Rick’s leisurely hand away and pulled himself out into the open. He hissed at how the cool air felt on his skin, but he tried to enjoy it because Rick would be heating him up again in seconds.

In reality it took a few minutes, but only because Rick couldn’t figure out if he wanted to keep pumping the girth or if he wanted to sit on it. Then, when he finally made up his mind, he spent a few witless seconds scooting up and down the cock, dragging his plush cheeks over Morty’s burning flesh. 

“The hell are you doing?” Morty moaned out impatiently.

“F-fucking help me, Morty. I can’t, er, I can’t find my–” Rick’s words erupted into a flurry of bubbled belches that merged into a long, abrasive one. “Fuck! I can’t find my ass, Morty. You gotta help me find my ass, Morty,” he groaned in distress.

Morty didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or growl out in frustration. Instead of doing either he sighed and reached back awkwardly with the hand he wasn’t using to stave Rick away from slamming exposed prick directly into spinal cord, and made a grope for the lube in his drawer.

He shuffled aside used batteries, unused condoms–which weren’t necessary with Rick and likely wouldn’t see another body for many a year, and took a papercut to his pinky before he finally found the little bottle. 

Even in the dim light, Morty could make out that the bottle was half empty, but that meant there was still plenty for the night. He pulled Rick down so he could gurgle easily against his grandson’s chest, then Morty finagled the bottle open blindly, doused his hand in the semi-sticky slick and slid two fingers in up to the second knuckle.

Rick hissed and tried to arch back, but Morty didn’t allow it. He kept one hand settled in the dip between Rick’s shoulder blades, not really pressing but applying enough gentle pressure to urge him to stay put. 

“Yeah, y-yeah okay, Morty. Good work, Morty. You found it! Yeaaah, ya did!” Rick’s words were muffled against Morty’s chest, but the younger man liked the feeling of the hot lips moving idley against him.

He moved his digits in and out, not going very deep, but expending most of his energy to fully coat the entrance. Rick had a hell of a stretch and Morty wasn’t really worried about hurting him. Besides that, they both lingered longer on a little pain, so it didn’t much matter.

Once the ring of muscle had opened up and was thoroughly soaked, Morty freed his fingers, slicked up his cock with a few quick pumps of his fist, and lined the head up. Only then did he let up and allow Rick to rise to a sitting position. As the old man sat up, he also sank down. “Oh fuck! M-Morty! Yeah, baby!” 

Then Morty was inside, pressing into the glorious trenches. He tilted his hips, but Rick slid willing so the cock bottomed out in seconds. Rick’s inner walls clamored with unusual enthusiasm and Morty whined as he started to move his hips.

“F-fuck,” Morty hissed as quietly as he could manage. “You f-feel good, Rick.” His hips kept going, increased in speed until he was rubbing himself joyously along the hot internals. Rick clenched his ass and bounced, noises fluttered out between his vulgar lips until Morty had to use his lube-tainted hand to cut off the odds of getting caught. His other hand was firmly locked against Rick’s hip, thumb digging an imprint against the V-line. 

Then Morty felt a strange shifting, the sensual glide of something pressing to his tip, then it was sliding down, pressing and teasing his under-vein and making him light up with erupting capillaries. He thought it was Rick’s prostate at first, that he was moving along it, but then Rick was whimpering against his palm in discomfort and the next thing he knew, the older man was pulling up and out of Morty’s firm grip.

“What the hell, Rick?” Morty groaned in desperation. He was just getting into it, losing himself to the tempo, and suddenly his cock was exposed to the chilly night air once more.

Rick didn’t reply, just made a strange, pitiful sound between a grunt and a whimper and shuffled up and over Morty’s chest so his sack settled against the slight hills of Morty’s developing pectorals and his ass made a home atop the boy’s diaphragm.

He started to shimmy his hips and whine and Morty was panting, turned on by the unusually sensual display. “What are you doing?” he asked more gently. When he didn’t get an answer he groaned, hot and bothered, and groped roughly at Rick’s hips. He jerked his grandfather forward and sucked Rick’s cock into his mouth. The girth was firm and salty with sweat, but Morty loved how the weight settled on his tongue. He started to suck and Rick made another strange, guttural sound.

Then a warmth began to spread along Morty’s chest and for a split second he thought perhaps his grandfather was merely shifting, trying to find a more comfortable way to press his cock deeper into Morty’s drenched mouth. Unfortunately that denial couldn’t hold very long.

The heat had a specific shape, a central point, and the acrid smell rose up seconds later. Morty’s eyes widened in the darkness and he choked around the length sliding in and out of his throat. He had felt that wet heat smearing along his chest and a conflicting sense of disgust and need knotted his stomach almost painfully. His cock twitched harshly against his will and he gripped Rick’s hips harder and yanked his grandfather backward. Rick’s ass smashed the mess and smeared it over Morty’s pecs.

“J-Jesus! Ohhhh, jesus christ! Ohh, Rick, fuck, ew!” Morty began to panic, but tried to keep his voice down to avoid getting them both caught. It would be mortifying enough to be seen fucking, but  _ this _ would be so much worse.

“N-no, come on. Come on, Mooorty!” Rick whined pathetically. His wiggled his hips, obviously unconcerned with the reeking mess he was still rubbing into Morty’s skin like some grotesque lotion. He arched his back sensually and slapped Morty’s chin with his thick cock.

“R-Rick, it stinks,” Morty groaned.

Then he gasped as Rick pinched his nose closed. “Don’t inhale then,” the old man grunted roughly. Then he used his free hand to squeeze Morty’s jaw open. The gesture made the younger man growl in pain and surprise, but the sound was cut short when Rick pivoted his hips forward and slammed his cock down Morty’s throat at an angle. He bucked up and down, lodged his member into the tight heat, and felt a giddy rush at the sensation of Morty’s throat constricting, choking on it. “G-good boy, Morty. Just like that,” Rick hissed.

Morty’s brows wove, his eyes watered, and his teeth threatened to clamp down around the invading mass, but instead he let the pressure build. He accepted he just wasn’t allowed to breathe as Rick kept his nostrils pinched closed and his windpipe was blocked up by ridged flesh rolling back and forth along his tongue. 

His hands found Rick’s hips again and urged him on, rocked the lithe old fuck in and out. It felt amazing, the glide of Rick’s cock, the budding, mounting pressure in his chest from the pent up need to inhale, the shiver of his limbs as oxygen ran scarce in his blood. Then the hot, smearing sensation returned.

Morty nearly did bite down at that point, but he wouldn’t have been able to get a good grip anyway. Still he felt like screaming. Rick was shitting on him! Just moaning and groaning and taking a load off while Morty was  _ trying _ to suck his damn cock. In a way, the pure audacity of it was fucking hot too.  _ Fuck, _ Morty thought in frustration.

The heat of the mess wasn’t doing anything to unsettle him anymore, if anything it felt good, the extra warmth making the pressure all the more unbearable. His cock twitched almost angrily. 

_ Well screw it, _ Morty decided. Rick was making him a heathen in all new ways every week it felt like, so what was one more thing he couldn’t tell his counselors? 

He gripped Rick’s hips with both hands and yanked hard. In a sudden show of strength, Morty upended Rick and tossed him onto the bed. He drew ragged breaths into his sore chest and ignored the sharp scent of vodka prompted shit. He lifted Rick’s legs up with one hand and used the other to line his cock up. 

“Ohh, oh–ngh–Morty! Oh, yeah, baby! Fuck me!”

“Shut up,” Morty hissed and once more had to cover his grandfather’s mouth to keep him from screaming out their indiscretions to the whole house. He sunk his cock back into the tight, welcoming heat of Rick’s body. It was hot, so scoldingly hot, and soft. He could feel the mess inside bubbling up around his prick. Soft stool splintering and encasing him, marking his length in dark streaks as he lifted up and slammed down.

But Morty didn’t care. Rick was tight and horny and welcoming and good. Morty could barely stand it. Their hips collided loudly, flesh slapping flesh. The whole room stank but Morty just nuzzled his face into Rick’s leg and inhaled his scent instead. He smelled like sweat and skin and that was good enough.

Rick’s whole body started to shake and spasm, his inner walls shuddered, as if prepared to collapse. His lips and teeth gnash against Morty’s constricting palm and he whined and rattled like he was dying. His cock flexed and sputtered, unleashed thick ropes of cum that splattered Morty’s already filthy chest, then Rick’s when the passion couldn’t launch the threads that high anymore.

The feeling of him coming undone, losing his grip, was too much for Morty. The younger man lasted a few more strokes before he was biting a violent bruise into Rick’s thigh and cumming hard into the messy cavern of Rick’s ass.

Morty grunted, pulsed his hips a few more times for good measure, then slid out. He landed on his ass then panted for a moment before the stink became too much to ignore. “Ugh, oh christ, Rick.” Steady breathing turned to gags.

“Wh-what’s wrong, Morty?” Rick chuckled, suddenly sounding a lot more sober as he basked, content in his filthy afterglow. “Y-you look like shit! Haha!” 

Morty covered his mouth to stem off anymore bodily eruptions before he stood to flee for the bathroom. When he reached the restroom and flicked on the bathroom light, he saw how his chest was painted with various shades of brown. Chunks clung to his flesh and wobbled, threatening to hit the floor. It took everything in him not to scream out.

Meanwhile, Rick just kept on laughing. “Sorry, I know it’s _crappy_ situation. Get it, Morty? Get it?!”

**Author's Note:**

> So, did I succeed? Let me know what you think in the comments! Also, I decided to make this a whole series of one-shots, so if you have an obscure kink or challenge for me don't be afraid to toss it out there. You never know what I'll do next...


End file.
